


Inevitable

by tirsynni



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Dark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8424967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tirsynni/pseuds/tirsynni
Summary: Every day, Peter Parker told himself he wasn't a monster. With every day that passed, it felt more like a lie.





	

Aunt May’s eyes were blown black, more stunned than anything else. She didn’t  _ look _ hurt. Not in her face. Pale. Startled. Not  _ hurt _ .

Except the gaping hole in her chest.

Peter pressed his hands down hard, but even his spider strength  _ wasn’t enough _ . Blood poured between white-knuckled fingers, stained pale skin red. It was so hot that it felt like fire licking his hands. 

“You might as well stop,” Harry commented. Harry knelt beside him, watching almost analytically as Peter pressed even harder on the wound. There was the crack of brittle bone breaking. “Look. The bleeding stopped.”

He was right. Oh god, he was right. The pour had slowed and stopped and he hadn’t even noticed. All he noticed was the  _ hotwetred _ and Aunt May’s eyes were so wide. They stared past Peter to something he couldn’t see.

Harry rested a hand over Peter’s where they still pressed against Aunt May’s chest. “It was inevitable.” Harry’s hands were cold and tinged green. When Peter tore his gaze away from Aunt May, he looked into mad, golden eyes. “But it’s okay now! You can be with me!” Harry grinned like the child he hadn’t been in years and squeezed Peter’s bloody hands. “It’s inevitable, you see. You’re going to be with me in the end. You’re already off to a good start!”

A good...start? Peter’s hands were hot but the rest of the world was cold, so damned cold. Shivering, he looked back down.

The hole in Aunt May’s chest matched the size of his fist.

With a wail, Peter jerked away in bed. He fumbled for his light, heard the crash of his alarm clock hitting the floor. The light flickered and flared on, lighting his cheap apartment bedroom. Outside his bedroom, a siren wailed. His posters stared at him, over a dozen blank eyes. Shivering, Peter huddled in his blankets.

“It was just a stupid dream,” he whispered. “Aunt May is fine. It was just a stupid dream.”

His hands still felt hot, even as ice threaded through his veins. He refused to look at them. Instead, Peter glared at the posters. They stared back.

“Tomorrow,” he informed them, “you’re going down.”

_ “It’s inevitable, you see.” _

xoxoxo

All those damned psychologists in his required courses (and the ones he took out of morbid curiosity) were liars. Knowing where his fears came from didn’t help. They had always lurked there, dancing shadows in his mind, mocking him with the same ease which he mocked his enemies. With every monster that arose from OsCorp, every person whose mind twisted with their DNA, Peter stared into a broken mirror of what was and what  _ could be _ .

Confronting it wasn’t helping, just rubbing salt in the wound, but Peter couldn’t look away from the newscast. His body ached and begged for the bed that was only a couple yards away; instead, Peter curled up on the floor in front of his couch, arms tight around his legs, and stared unblinking at the reporter talking about the crater behind her.

_ “It’s inevitable, you see.” _

Body count of only one. A miracle, the reporter called it. If Peter looked closely, he could see the blood splashed on the cement.

Harry’s arms wrapped around him. His chin settled on Peter’s shoulder. “Monsters,” he said cheerfully. “Aren’t we all?”

At last, Peter closed his eyes.

“A miracle,” the mayor agreed on the television.

xoxoxox

_ It was there when he closed his eyes _

_ It was there when he slept _

_ A spider’s cold black eyes and _

_ An endless web _

_ Entangling his friends _

_ Gwenmaryjaneauntmayjohnny _

_ Harryharryharryharry _

_ And his feet danced as light as anything over the webs _

_ And he smiled when he ate his fill _

_ And none of them screamed _

_ Not a one _

_ Eyes open wide with surprise _

_ None of them looked hurt _

_ Noneofthemlookedhurtnoneofthemlookedhurt _

“He wasn’t in pain, dear,” Aunt May murmured, voice soft and soothing.

Peter returned her hug and tried his damnedest to not think about how fragile she felt in his arms. 

“No pain,” Harry murmured behind Peter. He patted Peter’s shoulder. His hand felt cold.

xoxoxox

Spider-Man settled his back against a roaring gargoyle and just tried to breathe. His heart thudded painfully against his ribs, feeling like a rock slamming against the bone. He could imagine it now: shattering through, propelled by the same inhuman strength that let him launch himself through the air, blood a fountain from his chest.

How Jameson would  _ laugh _ when he recounted it in the  _ Daily Bugle _ the next day.  _ Telltale heart _ ! he would exclaim gleefully.

Spider-Man rubbed his face and focused on slowing his breathing. He was fine, everything was fine, his heart wasn’t about to bust out of his chest, his life hadn’t reached that level of Indiana Jones madness yet, things were  _ fine. _

Except...had he been rougher than usual in that last fight? It felt like it. Violence was just so easy. He kept his super strength leashed like it was a rabid dog, focusing instead on using speed and stealth to stop most opponents. A web here, a distraction here...one caught bad guy. He tried not to use too much of his strength because bones broke like twigs, skulls cracked like eggshells, and his costume was red but he always knew when there was blood on it.

There was no blood on it now. Spider-Man repeated that to himself as he rested his head back on the gargoyle. There was no need to be upset.

But his heart thudded on.

“Yo, Spidey!”

The lack of spidersense warning should have been a clue, but Spider-Man still jumped a bit when the male voice called out. He opened his eyes to see Johnny Storm touch down on the roof, fire extinguishing as his feet hit the asphalt. The fire flashed and vanished from Johnny’s face, leaving his concerned features. Spider-Man groaned and let his head thunk back on the gargoyle.

Normally, he was happy to see the matchstick, even if he would never tell the asshole. His ego was too inflated as it was. Today, though...today wasn’t a good day.

He flinched a little when Johnny rested a hand on his shoulder. Another thing he would never tell Johnny: how  _ delicate _ he felt. His sensory sensitivity had more than doubled since The Bite, and he felt the exact details of Johnny’s palm, the fragility of his bones. Spider-Man wouldn’t even need to  _ try _ to break them. 

He wasn’t thinking about it. He wasn’t thinking about it  _ at all _ .

“Long day fighting muggers and pickpockets, Webhead?” Johnny teased, but there was something gentle and worried in his voice that Spider-Man didn’t like at all.

_ I’m no good for you, Johnny. Haven’t you figured that out yet? _

“Oh, Johnny,” Spider-Man said breathlessly instead. “Are you here to save me from all toil and trouble?” He laid the back of his hand on his forehead so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch Johnny. He always wanted to touch Johnny. Johnny was so warm and lately he was feeling so cold.

Except there was poison running through his veins and it seeped into everything he touched.

Spider-Man opened his eyes and there was Harry behind Johnny, smiling. Blood trickled from his mouth.

“Just say the word, Spidey,” Johnny replied, and it sounded more sincere than teasing.

The blood streamed down Harry’s throat, staining his rumpled collar. “Yeah, Pete. Just say the word.”

Spider-Man hadn’t killed the thieves, but it would have been so easy. Despite Johnny’s powers, it would be just as easy to kill him now. Or maybe wrap him up in his webs so he could never escape. It was thanks to Johnny that he made his webs fireproof, after all.

Spider-Man shook his head and leaped to his feet with a suddenness that sent Johnny back onto his ass. “Maybe next time, Hot Stuff,” he chirped, and the perkiness scraped through his throat and the inside of his mouth like broken glass. “Some of us actually do stuff around here, you know.”

His last sight of Johnny was the man reaching out to him, that breakable hand extended like he could actually stop Spider-Man. Behind Johnny, Harry Osborn kept grinning and grinning  _ and _ \--

xoxoxox

When the spider first bit him, it burned, but the pain was swift to come and swift to go. Adrenaline seared it away even as it helped pump the poison through his veins. Peter didn’t feel anything until after he escaped. He blamed the rush of heat on his close call. He blamed his later fever on the same: anxiety, fear, shock of what he did. When the  _ real _ pain hit, that was the first time he realized something was wrong. 

The spider bite twisted his very DNA. He didn’t realize how much until much later. Even after Peter realized his new strength and abilities, he didn’t realize how much had changed. The birth of the Lizard should have been a clue. The Lizard’s madness was just the start.

The Green Goblin rode into his life like his glider was one of Uncle Ben’s horses of the Apocalypse. It was only then that Spider-Man began realizing his fate.

“It’s inevitable,” Harry told him, and Peter was beginning to realize that he was right.

xoxoxox

Aunt May was keeping an eye on Peter Parker and Johnny Storm was keeping an eye on Spider-Man and he didn’t have the heart to tell them that they were just making it worse. He dreamed of their staring eyes and their blood soaking his hands. It would be so  _ easy _ .

“The nightmares will stop if you do,” Harry offered helpfully. “Once you give in, everything’s easier.”

Peter stared at his laptop screen, not seeing his homework assignment but instead the crater in the ground, the limp hand and the wide eyes visible behind the broken mask. The horrific thing was that Peter  _ knew _ it would be easier. He could feel it. His sanity was a thin red string, straining and ready to break. Once it was gone, the guilt that had been crushing him for years would be gone. All that responsibility, all the fear, everything would be gone. 

“Free at last,” Harry agreed, hands on his shoulders. So cold but Peter was cold, too. Spiders were cold-blooded creatures, after all. Before the bite, he was something warm, but now? Now?

Peter stared at the screen, at the crater only he could see, and didn’t smell the warm scent of the spaghetti sauce Aunt May was making downstairs. He smelled copper and iron, cold metal and the acidic bite of poison. 

“I’m not a monster,” Peter whispered, and it sounded more and more like a lie every day.

Would he really be a monster, though? Was Deadpool a monster? Didn’t he kill? If he hadn’t just stopped that robber that day, if he had killed him, then not only would Uncle Ben have been safe, but so would every other possible victim, too.

“After all,” Harry said, and wasn’t it hilarious that he sounded more cheerful in death than he ever had in life, “the Green Goblin won’t hurt anyone ever again.”

Peter looked at his hands on the keyboard. He saw the red still under his fingernails. 

Harry hadn’t looked hurt at all.

xoxoxox

Crouched on the roaring gargoyle again, overlooking his city. Spider-Man heard the quiet roar of Johnny Storm’s flame, heard the light tap as his feet touched on asphalt. 

“Kill him now,” Harry urged. He leaned against the gargoyle, cold shoulder resting against Spider-Man’s knee. His hair was mussed.  _ Mask hair _ , Spider-Man thought, and it was oddly hilarious. “It’ll be like pulling off a band-aid. Or just keep him. I bet he would like to be kept.”

Spider-Man didn’t turn to look as Johnny slowly approached him, cautiously, like he was walking toward a tiger. 

_ “Go get ‘im, tiger,” _ MJ told him so many time before. She hadn’t said it since Harry’s funeral.

Instead, Spider-Man rolled the thought through his mind, like someone would do when they idly considered calling off work or ordering those extra large fries at lunch time. This  _ thing _ between him and Johnny had simmered for years, in odd jokes and too-familiar touches. Even now, Johnny rested an unnaturally warm hand on his shoulder, against his neck, his heat biting at the cold inside him. Johnny, who didn’t even know his true name or face but was here, nonetheless.

Spider-Man could kill him just as easily as he could kiss him. That was  _ amazing _ . Had that been what Harry thought before that final night? Peter had  _ pleaded _ with him and Harry had  _ smiled _ . He kissed him and Peter had been speechless. Peter didn’t get a chance to ask him how long he felt that way before Harry tried to kill him. Harry almost killed MJ before Peter could stop him.

Would it be that way with Johnny? A kiss and then a kill? He was a spider. Female spiders typically killed the males after sex.

_ C’mon, Johnny. It would be the fuck of a lifetime _ .

“You okay, Webhead?” Johnny asked quietly. “You were...pretty rough today.”

Actual broken bones this time. He almost killed them. He  _ wanted _ to. He was  _ hungry _ for it, saliva building in his mouth. And he had been right: it had taken no effort at all. It had actually taken more effort to  _ not _ kill them.

“Spidey?” Johnny asked, uncertainty in his voice like Spider-Man rarely heard before. 

_ Fear _ , the predator in him whispered.

“Peter,” he corrected. Johnny’s hand tightened on his shoulder. His senses seemed sharper than ever, a flashback to when he first gained his powers. He  _ smelled _ Johnny’s surprise. “Peter Parker.”

Harry started to laugh when Peter slipped his mask off, throwing it to the side like trash. It  _ slapped _ the asphalt.

“Peter,” Johnny repeated. He laughed a little, hysteria tinging it. “Thank God you’re hot.”

Of all the possible responses… Peter laughed, and it felt real. He turned and smiled at Johnny’s stunned face, and that felt real, too. First real bit of happiness he felt in months, really.

Johnny cupped his face. Peter leaned into it. Harry watched, fascinated, like a sick voyeur, dead eyes wide. Peter put his hand over Johnny’s. His smile turned into a grin.

“You’re scaring me a little, Peter,” Johnny whispered, the faint tremor in his voice killing the teasing tone. Johnny grinned back, crooked, going for cocky and missing by a mile. 

Johnny told him before that he felt like the dimwit of his family, thanks to his brilliant sister and brother-in-law, but Peter had always known better. Johnny’s intelligence was intuitive, hidden by his bragging and fire. It was what made him such a threat.

“I know,” Johnny continued hesitantly, still smiling that crooked smile, “that things have been rough lately…”

Peter leaned in and kissed him. Johnny’s lips were burning hot. Beside them, Harry started laughing. Johnny’s mouth tasted sweet, almost sugary.

“We could have had something, Johnny,” he whispered against Johnny’s mouth.

_ “It’s inevitable,” Harry whispered, eyes wide but there was no fear there, no pain. _

“Pete--” Johnny started and then gasped. Peter’s lips curved sweetly, still pressed to Johnny’s.

Using his own strength, Peter slammed Johnny’s webbed hand to the gargoyle. A split second later, Johnny’s other hand joined it. 

“Peter!” Johnny shouted, yanking against his webs. He flamed on but it didn’t even singe the webbing. Peter was good at what he did.

“It’s inevitable,” Peter told him, leaning backwards. 

Johnny screamed and Harry laughed the entire way down.

With great power came with great responsibility, Uncle Ben told him once. Even if that responsibility was taking care of one’s self.

It was inevitable.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!


End file.
